


Come Pick Me Up

by flootiger



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootiger/pseuds/flootiger
Summary: The twins will always have each other.
Relationships: Bill Kaulitz/Tom Kaulitz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Come Pick Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tokiohotelfiction page on 13 November 2016 :)

Bill was exhausted, the day had been long and the work had been hard. Around him the night shrouded him like a cloak and kept him safe from watchful eyes and spying cameras.

Berlin glittered and he shivered.

Solo work was not something he enjoyed and today had been gruelling. Two years ago Bill would be been bouncing off the walls, thrilled at the opportunity to show off for their public but that was before the fans had turned rapid and his eyes had turned dull.

Fame was like a drug, the best thing he’d ever had until the comedown brought it all crashing around him so his life lay fractured and split. It had overpowered him and left him lonely in an industry of a thousand people all wanting a piece of him.

Bill shuddered as a bitter breezed ruffled his long hair. His final interview of the day had ended half an hour earlier and instead of hopping in a black cab and heading to their city apartment he waited in the cold night. A thin layer of snow crunched beneath his boots as he shifted listlessly from foot to foot in a vague attempt to warm up.

Dunja had offered to wait with him but he liked the peace and needed five minutes alone while he lingered outside the studios. Everyone had bustled out the building as soon as the interview was over, fussing over him as they went but Bill knew neither he nor they really cared what he did. He was done for the day and wouldn’t be needed until the next time his phone buzzed obnoxiously with a request for an interview, a photoshoot, a quick performance.

Snow was beginning to fall again and Bill tucked his hands under his armpits. He was amazed at how tranquil the night was and a large part of him kept shooting furtive looks around, expecting a mob of fans or reporters to come barrelling down the street toward him. It was a quiet part of town, Bill supposed, and the night was bitterly cold.

Suddenly, the low rumble of an engine reached Bill’s ears and he turned toward the end of the street, watching as two headlights illuminated the snowy ground and Escalade-sized tyres ground across icy asphalt.

The windows were tinted but Bill knew his brother was reaching across to the passenger side to click open the door for him as he came to a halt right at the edge of the orange glow from a streetlight.

Not wanting to remain in the cold any longer Bill hopped in, sliding onto the cream leather and closing the door with a muted click.

“Hey,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

Tom sighed and Bill winced slightly. “You’re too tired.”

“‘M fine,” Bill murmured.

Tom was silent, the only noise the sound of his engine purring in the night. Then Bill felt calloused fingers slide through his hair and cup the base of skull, a thumb brushing the back of Bill’s neck and making the tensions of the day melt away. Bill swore Tom’s touch was magic.

“When are we going to slow down?” Tom asked quietly. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Bill’s eyes opened and he turned his head to look across at Tom, still tipped back against the headrest.

“I’m fine,” he said again. “Are you?”

“No,” Tom replied, his hand still holding the back of Bill’s neck. “Did you eat today?” were Tom’s next words and Bill closed his eyes with a soft frown and turned away again, unable to have this conversation now.

“Can we go home?”

Tom’s hand slid from the back of his neck and Bill swallowed, trying to quell the irrational panic that rose in his chest when Tom let go. To calm himself, he drew his knees up, tucking his legs beneath him on the seat and reached across the small space between them to wind his fingers into the folds of Tom’s hoodie.

They drove in silence, Tom navigating the empty streets of Berlin and sticking to back roads and cobbled suburbia to avoid getting trapped in the city’s almost permanent mangle of traffic.

Bill began to unwind as Tom drove him home, his unrest replaced with a melancholy that made his heart beat slow and his eyes droop shut. The hand that was wound tight into Tom’s hoodie was safe and Bill could feel Tom’s warm body beneath the soft jersey.

“I don’t know how to protect you,” Tom suddenly said in a cracked voice.

Bill’s eyes opened and he looked across at Tom. Slices of orange passed over Tom’s features as they drove over the streetlamp-lined Oberbaum bridge. Tom wasn’t looking at him but Bill could didn’t think he could stand it if he did.

“My protector,” Bill whispered. “Tomi, you’ll always be my protector.”

“You’re hurting,” Tom said and Bill’s heart constricted as he heard his brother’s voice break again. “And I can’t do a fucking thing about it.”

The fingers gripping Tom’s hoodie squeezed and Bill’s throat closed up.

“You’re…” Bill tried but could only swallow thickly around the rest of the words that wouldn’t come out.

Several minutes passed in silence that was filled with unspoken words until they turned a corner into an unlit street, surrounded by spindly winter trees and grey looking park land. It was quiet and isolated and Bill knew Tom was going to stop the car.

The engine growled then cut off as the car tyres crunched over gravel and Tom came to a stop beneath a copse of snow-tipped branches that hung low over the car.

“Bill… Billy” Tom started softly. Bill closed his eyes again and retracted his hand from Tom’s top as he felt Tom move, the leather creaking loudly in the silent night. “Please let me help you. Can’t you see this is fucking tearing me apart?”

Bill’s eyes smarted behind his lids and his brow dipped in the middle as he tried not to cry. Bill was selfish, had always been selfish and he hated himself for it.

“I don’t know what to say, Tom,” he uttered. “I know you love me…”

Tom’s hands were pushing Bill’s fringe back off his forehead, stroking his hair behind his ears and swiping his thumb over Bill’s cheekbone. “I love you more than anything,” Tom promised.

“What can we do?” Bill asked, his own voice hoarse. “We’re trapped.”

“I want to take you away,” Tom said in a strained voice. “Get away from those fucks and just hide. Let me take you to the Maldives, we’ll just live on a beach. We love the Maldives… our first time… it’s special.”

“We can’t—” Bill began, even as images of being with Tom for the very first time beneath the canopy of tropical stars flashed unbidden behind his eyes. But Tom cut across him, tender fingers still carding through his hair.

“We can… I can,” Tom pressed on and Bill could hear the note of desperation colouring his twin’s voice. It made his heart ache. Bill wanted to stop hurting Tom like he was but he didn’t fucking know how. “Let me look after you, Bill. I promised mum I would take care of you.”

The corners of Bill’s mouth lifted in a smile and his eyes fluttered open to find Tom’s wide ones staring across at him in the moonlight. “I promised mum the same thing about you.”

Tom gave a smile that ended up looking like a grimace. “We’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“No,” Bill agreed plaintively.

“We owe it to her,” Tom said. “I owe it to you.”

At last, tears spilled over the kohl-lined eyes and Bill gasped, his lungs suddenly unable to draw enough air into them.

“Bill?” Tom’s voice was trembling and he was trying to wipe away Bill’s tears as they rolled down his cheeks. “Please don’t cry, please—”

But the rest of his words were cut off as Bill blearily climbed out of his seat and into Tom’s lap, wrapping his arms and legs around Tom and holding on tight. A strangled sob escaped his lips and he muffled it by pressing his face into the juncture of Tom’s neck and sucking in a anguished lungful of air that smelled of Tom.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he rasped. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Tom’s arms were around him and Bill pressed as close to his twin as he could get, wanting to bury himself in Tom’s warm embrace, zip them both up inside his too-big hoodie and shut out the rest of the world forever. He kept rocking forward, desperate to get as close as possible to Tom, needing to feel his brother all around him. With another pained sob Bill pulled back, leaving a damp smudge of kohl against Tom’s neck. Blindly, he pressed his lips to Tom’s and tried to show Tom how much he loved him, how much he needed him, he poured his entire heart into that kiss and hoped Tom would feel it. His eyes stung with the salt of his tears and his ruined make-up and he squeezed them shut, wanting to forget everything but Tom.

When they broke apart Bill could see Tom’s own eyes glistening in the dark, shadowed with worry and exhaustion.

“You’re the only one, Tom,” Bill said in a rough voice. “The only one I will ever need. You owe me nothing.” Bill pressed his forehead to Tom’s and kissed him again, pulling back only a fraction so he could breath. “I owe you my life.”

Bill felt Tom’s chest heave as he choked back tears of his own and they held on to each other, wrapped around each other in the front seat of Tom’s Escalade until Bill could no longer feel his legs.

They wouldn’t go away, they wouldn’t hide and even if it killed them, they would do this together and that thought was enough to make Bill want to beat all this and fight until the very end. Together.


End file.
